Maleficarum Chapter 4: Fuck Buddy Fay
Chapter 4: Fuck Buddy Fay
“Fuck,” Mike muttered as he raised his gun, but before he could take aim, the box popped open, spilling its contents behind the short aisles. The sound intensified as Mike moved hard to his left into the center of the store, trying to get a clear line of sight. A bobbling head peeked up from behind a rack of flavored condoms. Its plastic form slowly inflated itself into a recognizable human shape. Mike lifted the gun, but the plastic doll ducked back down.
“You motherfucker,” he said as he ran to the end of the aisle behind which the form was hidden. He jumped around, striking his best action pose, pointing the gun with both hands. His body contracted as he locked eyes with the hideous thing. It was indeed a Fuck Buddy Fay, but never before had the sight of three holes for your pleasure struck a man with such terror. The face was a direct print of the one on the box, but it was haphazardly rendered to fit the doll. Its hair was molded into pigtails, and its mouth was a gaping hole designed for the loneliest of cocks. However, within that hole was an unnatural set of gums that housed thin, glass-like teeth that gnashed at the prospect of human flesh.
Mike didn’t know much about it, but he was relatively sure that wasn’t part of the factory design. The doll rushed forward with floppy, squeaky, and spastic movements. Its body was almost too light to move with any real effect. It was only about ten feet from Mike, but it looked as if it was going to be a good forty-five seconds before it could reach him. It smacked wildly into the racks and display cases, nearly being thrown off balance each time.
“What the fuck is going on?” Mike exclaimed, firing the gun into the chest of the demonic incarnation of Fuck Buddy Fay. The hunk of lead ripped into the doll and out the other side, sending the plastic doll sailing down the aisle. It let out a hellish wail as it rapidly deflated.
“Is it dead?” Ann questioned.
Mike said, as he looked at the demonic doll farting out its last puffs of air, “I think so. Someone get something to put this thing in. We’re going to burn it just to be sure,” Mike added. He kept the gun pointed while the fat man snagged a trash can that lay tipped over on the floor next to him and began hustling over to Mike. The fat man sidled up beside Mike and looked at the deflated mess.
“Well, I don’t really want to touch it,” he grumbled.
“Fuck, I can’t blame you, man,” Mike said. “What’s your name?”
“Rick.”
“Nice to meet you, Rick. I wish it was under better circumstances, but we've got to deal with what we've got.” Mike paused for a moment before saying. “Y’all bring us the mop. It should be over in the corner,” he said, looking back to the girls and pointing to the mop sitting to their left-hand side. Ann snatched up the mop and ran it over to them. She handed the mop to the pudgy man as he tried to steel himself from whatever might come next. He tried his best to adjust his sweat-stained shirt and then stepped one foot down the aisle. His face was pale and clammy as he inched forward a bit more. Mike came up beside him with the gun clenched in his hand.
“It’s OK, man. If it moves, I’ll bust a hole right in its noggin,” Mike said. The fat man let out a labored breath as they both crept up onto the twisted pile of plastic. They moved within about four feet from the thing and stopped.
“Hit it with the stick, dude,” Mike said. Then Rick nervously raised the mop over his head and slammed it down. The wooden mop handle smacked the tip of one of the doll’s limp pigtails with a clack, but before the echo could bounce off the wall, the creature leapt back to life. In a flash, it grabbed the mop handle with its deflated tentacle-like arms, and before the fat man could even let out a gasp of horror, it had slithered its way up the handle like an octopus. It reached his hand with an astonishing quickness, and teeth met flesh.
“Get it off,” he screamed. The doll stuck tightly to his hand as if it had been shrink-wrapped. The fat man bellowed as he tried to rip the unholy succubus from his hand. Mike grabbed the dangling legs of the doll and ripped as hard as he could. The doll stretched as Mike yanked at it and, sounding like cork being pulled from a wine bottle, the doll popped off. Mike slammed the doll as hard as he could as Rick hurried away from the threat.
“It was biting me,” he wailed. Mike looked down at the man’s plump hand to see a half-dollar-sized chunk of flesh had been sucked out.
“Girls, get over next to the door,” he said as he ran. Both Ann and Beverly rushed to the door, passing Rick as he wheezed. It took a few moments for Mike and the injured man to reach them. When they did, Mike turned around and monitored the general direction where he had thrown the demonic masturbation aid, but the horrendous doll had vanished.
“Anyone see where that fucking thing went?” Mike bellowed, but no one said a word.
“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath as he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.
“What do we do now?” Beverly said as she hid behind her brother’s shoulder, trying to peek out into the store.
“Well, I’m not going to—” The same sound as before started to creep into their ears.
A popping and crackling, but on a much larger scale, rose up within the store. The entire back wall of the store began to shake. The entire back wall filled with blowup dolls. The packages began bursting like popcorn kernels in a fire, and they spilled their contents to the floor.
“Ohhh, fuck me,” Mike groaned.
“We’ve got to go,” Ann barked as dolls began to inflate themselves. Ten had nearly formed, and there were at least fifty more to go. The dolls started bobbling their way toward the frightened group as fast as their pliable legs could carry them. The dolls’ eyes were flashing like purple strobe lights as they screeched.
“Yep,” Mike said, rushing for the door. Ann hit it first and threw open the lock and rushed into whatever terrors the night held for her. The others quickly followed suit. Cool night air enveloped them, giving a welcome relief from the stench that had accumulated within the store. They all rushed into the parking lot to see that the cars had all been brutally torn apart. Bits of Mike’s small red sedan had been thrown haplessly about like a child’s unloved toys.
“My fucking holy hell,” Mike muttered in disbelief. “My car! My motherfucking car, man,” was all he could repeat.
“What do we do?” Beverly whispered. Before anyone could say a word, a shrill whistle sprang from the roof. They all turned to see Hegel standing on the peak with an old pitchfork in her hand.
“That’s her,” Beverly said.
“Yep, that would be me,” Hegel said, glaring at the two girls with her good eye. Mike fixed his sights on her.
“What the fuck is going on here?” he shouted as the intensity of his voice grew.
“A bit of a gathering. Tonight is a very special night, and we still have so much to do,” she said, picking at the ragged hole where her eye used to sit. “I’ll tell you what. If you give me the girls, the two of you can go free.”
“Fuck you,” Mike spat.
“Why are you doing this?” Ann shouted.
“Oh, it’s a long, sordid tale involving lost love and thirty slaves being burnt to the bone, but it’s nothing I feel like getting into. Suffice it to say I sold my soul for someone, and then they tried to have me burnt at the stake. It was in effigy, but still that pissed me off. At any rate, the whole story ends with me sitting on top of this roof getting ready to render the fat of two young girls.”
“That’s fucked-up, man,” Mike blurted, keeping his gun locked on her.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Hegel chortled with a thin-lipped smile. Her cruel eye cast its gaze into the dark pines. On the tree line, shadows gathered. Some were distinctly human, but others were a twisted mockery of all that was holy. Their forms defied nature, and the loathing in their glowing eyes defied the Good in all its forms.
Writhing devils of pride’s creation poured from the darkness, singing, “Ohhh, for love we come. Ooohhh, for experiences we come. We are open to all the worlds, and we follow he that answers prayers.” They chanted in unison. The sounds of their voices were so powerful and numerous that it reverberated in the frightened teens’ guts. Countless numbers of them poured out of the ghastly black woods. The entire forest was like an angry ant mound. A great wind raged from all directions, nearly toppling the trees.
“The Sabbath has begun,” Hegel hissed in a raspy voice.